The Recall
by The Sachen Masta
Summary: A lost hero recovers from pain and rediscovers his purpose and his friends. An old team is reunited and the people of the world wonder who will come to there aid. A murderous organization seeks power. Rated T currently but may be amped up to M depending on story.


**Characters and their ages (some are changed) the lore states that we are in a world sixty years from now and Overwatch was established thirty years prior to that current date. I put the date at around 2076.**

D'Va: 19  
Zenyatta: 20  
Junkrat: 25  
Lúcio: 26  
Tracer: 26  
Symmetra: 28  
Zarya: 28  
Winston: 29  
Bastion: 30  
Mei: 31  
Pharah: 32  
Widowmaker: 33  
Mercy: 34  
Genji: 35  
McCree: 37

Thomas Blood "Knight": 38  
Hanzo: 38  
Roadhog: 48  
Torbjörn: 57  
Reinhardt: 61

 **Hey Everyone! Jesus this story has gathered some dust hasn't it? I've decided to repost this story, I edited it out a little more, changed some small things but overall it's the same story. One quick tip regarding ages if you guys are wondering why some of these people arn't physically older. I've decided that given Overwatch's time period humans probably age a little less, couple that with some of our heroes abilities and well, poof. That's why Thomas, although 38, isn't greying or aging that much same with Ang and the rest. I do hope you guys review, give me tips, or if I am worthy follow this story. I have 4 chapters written and ready to be edited and I will write more (hopefully.) That being said this story won't be updated on a schedule, just whenever I want. So let's start this over again, shall we.**

New York apartment July 2076

The door hinges wheezed as the door moved open, Thomas walked into his small home. It wasn't much but it was the most his pension could provide him. He limped forward into the apartment his cane clicking against the wood floor. He shut the door behind him and sighed, _Home again home again._ He moved to the window and pulled it open, the sounds of the city filling the small room, the heat in the city this time of year was unbearable. He sat down in his arm chair and loosened his tie.

He looked over at his end table and picked up one of the photos, he grinned hugely. The picture was of him and McCree armwrestling at one of their 'team meetings.' Gathered around the table was Mercy with her arm around Winston who looked positively ridiculous. _After all these years i still can't get used to an ape in a tie._ Mercy was radiant, wearing a white blouse and a blue skirt, her blonde hair pulled into it's usual ponytail. McCree wore flannel button up with the sleeves rolled high and Thomas wore a red t-shirt that had the words "STAR WARS" written on them. _Good times, good memories_. He looked at the date it was taken _7/1/70._ Thomas usually would call one of his former team mates on this day but like every year he knew no one would answer. Except Angela, she would answer his calls, ask him how he was doing, how his leg was fairing. He'd ask her more or less the same, except she didn't have a shattered leg or nerve lacerations. He decided against calling, she was in africa, _or was it Asia? Oh I don't remember!_

He felt a twinge in his leg, It never stopped hurting, an annoying reminder of days gone by. He pulled his hand through his short red hair then guiding it down to his red stubble, he stroked his face, thinking. _All I ever do is think, It's the only thing I can do now_.

After a feud between Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison hit the boiler those five years ago Thomas had never been the same. Contrary to popular belief there were more than two casualties in the explosion at the swiss HQ that fateful night. Thomas had been returning to grab his favorite leather jacket from his quarters and then as he entered the complex, _BOOM_. He woke up in a pile of rubble covered in his own blood with his right leg torn to shreds and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his sternum. He was recovered from the wreckage and taken to a hospital. They did their best to fix his leg, fixed the bone and repaired the cartilage as best they could. But they couldn't save the nerve endings. He had a dozen other "minor" wounds in comparison with the leg. Fractured ribs, a skull depression, broken collarbone, multiple lacerations, but none hurt him nearly as much emotionally as the leg. Sure he could walk, with a cane and a lot of effort, and his other injuries had healed but it just wasn't the same. He was a sad depressed shadow of his former self. The explosion not only broke apart the team, but it broke apart his body and his happiness.

He pulled out a pendant in the shape of a sword, the last piece of the Knight. Putting it back in his pocket he grabbed his cane and stood up, hobbling over to his small kitchen. He opened up a drawer and pulled out a pack of jelly beans. He always had the need to chew something to soothe his anxiety, and he loved jelly beans because of it. He heard a _ping_ from his cellular device and procured it from his pocket. What he saw nearly made him drop his jelly beans.

The message read, _Recalling all former members of OverWatch: The time to come out of the shadows is now._ Underneath the message there was a little, _Accept : Decline_ , button. Without hesitation he hit accept. Immediately after he questioned his decision, _You're a damn cripple Blood! What the hell are you going to do, wave your cane at the world's enemies?_ He sighed, he was not the same man, he was still young by modern standards yet he hobbled around like he was a handicapped senior. Nevertheless the world was suffering since OverWatch fell, with Talon wreaking havoc and terrorism going rampant. He sighed, he would provide any assistance possible to the team, he was a substantial weapons expert so maybe he could take the role of armorer.

He heard his phone _ping_ once more, it was a text, from Winston. _The Rendezvous will be in the old Metro Station 25 in London_

 _An abandoned Metro?_ He supposed discretion would be needed, he didn't care he was happy to see the team again.

After packing a small backpack of the bear essentials, toothbrush, clothing, money, and of course a passport Thomas booked a last minute ticket on board a plane heading for London. He chose the connecting flight to Paris, it was a lot cheaper plus he would need a moment to stretch his bad leg.

He opened his door and left the apartment locking it up nice and good, he wouldn't be coming back any time soon.

 **End Chapter, just a little backstory on one of our main characters to get everything rolling. I figured it'd be fun to have a new hero. Understand that Thomas was a very capable person pre accident. He had skills on par with The Master Chief (that's just a comparison) and was a super soldier (I'll explain more of his backstory later). With that in mind I tried to make him seem like a shadow of his former self, a broken man who lost himself. Imagine being captain America and then being reduced to a cripple on painkillers who can't even jog. I know I would become pretty downcast and that's what I was trying to emulate. This is just a way to dip my foot into the water if you will. If you want to see more of this Overwatch story I have concocted please let me know.**


End file.
